


Ghosts Walk These Halls

by GreenSocksXIII



Series: The Sixth Paladin AU [3]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: AU, F/M, Gen, Ghosts, X-files theme plays in the background, Zarkon has a lot of self-loathing in my au, but seriously sleep deprivation is a very bad thing, even for reformed evil space emperors, is Zarkon losing it, or are there really ghosts walking, the halls of the Castle of Lions, the only question is, there be references of OCs ahoy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-01
Updated: 2017-03-01
Packaged: 2018-09-27 16:56:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 722
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10035047
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GreenSocksXIII/pseuds/GreenSocksXIII
Summary: Stricken with insomnia and a vast amount of self-loathing, Zarkon ruminates on how much he doesn’t deserve any form of aid in dealing with the ghosts of his past. These ghosts may or may not be psychological in nature though. Which may just lead to some interesting discoveries about the Castle of Lions resident humans, and the effect quintessence has on them.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I've come to realize that I really like writing things that are Zarkon centric. Also I love writing a "redeemed" Zarkon who is just drowning in self-loathing. Also I realize I should not be given pen and paper at 3am because then I end up writing this kind of stuff.

Shadows flicker at the edges of his vision. They dart across darkened rooms, and down the empty corridors of the Castle of Lions. Wiggling, terrifying reminders of a time long since passed. They follow him everywhere; they cling to the Castle walls. Sometimes they are bold, and he feels them brush past him. Their breath soft and electrifying as it caresses his ears. Fingers soft and insistent make mockery of the memories they draw form from.

Zarkon knows it isn’t real, and he knows that everything he is experiencing is simply his mind’s way of coping with what he has suffered through. Not that Zarkon can bring himself to truly feel like the victim Coran and Allura insist he is. Princess Allura, Zarkon reminds himself for the tenth time this day. He lost the right to refer to her so casually the day he accepted Haggar’s offer. When he doomed her people to extinction, and her solar system to inhalation.

Shuddering, Zarkon releases a stuttering breath. He knows he should seek help; that these shadows, the touches, the snippets of just barely there voices he hears are likely the result of his insomnia. He can’t bring himself to do it though, and he can’t find it in him to seek the relief that medicine could provide from the guilt that haunts him every night. He doesn’t deserve their kindness; the mercy they have already shown him. Taking him in and healing the near fatal wounds his final battle with the Paladins had dealt him. Healing the damage Haggar’s corrupted quintessence had done to him for 10,000 years. He doesn’t deserve the love Lotor has for him, doesn’t deserve how the human girl, Elaine risked her life to help Lotor rescue him from Haggar and her druid followers. Doesn’t deserve the loyalty of the Galran troops who defected to follow him and Lotor, or the hesitant but growing loyalty the Blades of Marmora have shown him. He can’t understand their trust, their love, their loyalty, their kindness. How can he be worthy of any of this after what he’s done? The simple fact that they allow him to roam the Castle free and not bound and shackled like he deserves to be is far more than Zarkon can comprehend.

As he makes his twelfth circuit of the Castle, Zarkon finds he misses the comforts his team once provided him. Alfor’s gentle but firm words of comfort, or the no nonsense form of diplomacy Millara doled out in spades. Elari’s scathing wit as she bantered with any who dared try her at her own game. Ryssan’s distracting pranks and jokes. Ronan’s parental guidance, so sorely needed after Zarkon’s ascension to the Galran throne in the wake of his own father’s unexpected death. Ispera’s tenancy to distract him with a good spar, which tended to simply result in him receiving a good number of new bruises; something so typical of his sister-in-law. Most importantly, he misses Olana. The way her mere presence could surround him, and force the worries of running an empire or leading the Paladins off his mind for a while.

Sinking to his knees, Zarkon stares mutely out at the swirling nebulas outside the Atrium windows. He dimly realizes that he’s found his way to the eastern atrium of deck 13, sorrow grips his heart in a vice-like grip as he recalls how he proposed to Olana in this very spot over 10,000 years ago. Tears well up in his eyes, before they finally slip free to trail down his face. He cries, the aching sorrow, the hole in his chest that was once filled by a lovely Altean; with eyes the color of the darkest depths of the ocean.

If Coran finds him in the morning his knees stiff with age and from being stuck in the same position all night, no one sees it. If Coran also helps Zarkon to the Galra’s quarters in the early hours of the Castle’s simulated daytime cycle, then no one is the wiser. If Coran does all this, and never speaks a word of it to anyone else; then perhaps it is a secret that remains between friends. Friends who are all that remains of a time long past. A time that haunts their memories, the same way it haunts these hallways.

**Author's Note:**

> I really need to calm down with all this angst don’t I? Anyways don’t forget to comment, I always love hearing from you guys, even if it is just “OMG such story much good”.  
> Of course for reference all OCs are as follows:  
> Roran- Coran's Grandfather  
> Olana-Blue Paladin  
> Ispera-Violet Paladin  
> Ryssan-Red Paladin  
> Elari-Green Paladin  
> Millara-Allura's mom  
> and of course my headcanon that Alfor is the Yellow Paladin completes the set lol


End file.
